Welcome to Life - Report for Duty
by Cravitus
Summary: You don't start as an Invader; you work your way to it. A look into the early life of Invader Averii; or as he was back in these times, just Averii - Focused on Fan-Characters. Canon Characters, however, may or may not make cameos.
1. Prologue: Birth

**A/N - Formatting seems to work against me here, sorry for lack of indentation and all that.**

For centuries it had operated.  
>Thousands, if not millions, had been born in this chamber, from each of the encapsulated vats. Sealed in the walls, each life inside began as a single seed of randomized DNA. Feeding on the green fluid, genetic instructions (the result of untold millennia of evolution and genetic engineering) carried out their duties. A small, feeble body would be synthesized, it's general form and destiny controlled by that random set of genes. A pair of antennae would develop as the tiny blob of flesh developed, bristling with thousands of tiny nerves as the jet-black point ended in either a natural point or a curl, depending on the gender of the Irken Smeet.<p>

The head would receive the most focus as the smeet developed; the durable skull encasing a master control center, along with subcutaneous sensors, not unlike a Human's nose, though much more refined and sensitive. It's zipper-like teeth would begin to form, a snakelike tongue as well (though the former starts out as a single solitary tooth). It's limbs would develop more slowly, but they would be ready when they were needed. A pair of arms would jut from the shoulders, ending in three slender fingers, and a pair of legs would sprout, ending in tiny feet.

Developing and taking form, every smeet was differently shaped, though all were curled into a tight ball, oblivious to the world around it. It may kick and spasm at times, but only harmlessly, unconscious. Eventually, when the time was right, the smeet would become dimly aware of the world, and the capsule itself would react.

The capsule itself was a unique design; a self-contained marvel of automated systems such as life support, temperature regulation, as well as maturation analyzation. Inscribed on the top was a simple holographic icon, with three simple states, all reflecting the pictographic style of Irken Culture. While the smeet gestated, a dormant, inexpressive trio of lines would be displayed; eyes and mouth closed. When the smeet had reached just the right point, a celebrative green expression would be displayed, wide eyes and a wide grin, a new member of the Irken Race ready to be born. The rarest was the one signifying loss; a solid black frown with a mournful face.

Today, there had been many happy faces.

Patiently, the control brain waited; with green grins aplenty the mechanized arms did their duty with swiftness and efficiency, unscrewing each vat from the rounded, darkened walls with ease. With a hiss of steam, the latest module emerged, pulled from the warmth of the chamber, the smeet tucked into a ball. The second arm would swing in close behind, grasping the end with care and bringing it out over one of the many tiles on the ground, a constantly practiced maneuver. The liquid inside bubbled a bit, and the smeet was unmoving.  
>Then, with whirr of the servos, each arm bent the capsule effortlessly, the glass shattering and the life-sustaining fluid flowing out; the quick-break hinge had done it's job, and the capsule was replaced for future use. The smeet, amidst glass and fluid, flopped onto the ground with it's sudden entrance into the world quiet, but rather brutal.<br>The arms descended again, this time upon the silent newborn, face-down on the ground. The first sent two heated spikes into his spine, and within a second, the precious PAK unit held between the spikes was plunged forth, and the two connectors made quick contact, fusing and interfacing with the unmoving, silent child.  
>The arm withdrew, it's partner swinging in from the other side, hovering in place for a moment. A sudden jolt of electricity flowed over the motionless smeet, arcing from the mechanical limb. The arm pulled up a twitch, and the child bolted up, naked, soaking, and cold; but it did not shiver.<br>"Welcome to Life, Irken Child," The Control Brain echoed, it's tone welcoming, the smeet unblinking. "Report for Duty." It looked about for an instant, it's rare blue eyes taking in it's environment in the fraction of a second. Curiously, it snapped off a rigid salute; unusual at such an early stage.  
>"Affirmative. Reporting for Duty." It squeaked. Such was the way of the Irken, however, for it was Duty from Birth. Thus, the Control Brain resumed it's duties without pause, a feeling of satisfaction washing over it; another successful birth.<br>Later would recall the day with sorrow, as many would; for it was the day the Irken who caused Horrible Painful Overload Day was born. The day _he_ was born. A plentiful day of green grins replaced with five long years of black frowns.  
>Such was the way of the Zim; destruction wherever he went.<p>

In the present, however, the oblivious smeet dropped, falling into a tube. Down he went for some time, through all manner of spiraling metal and glass, seeing glimpses of endless circuitry beyond with the occasional other chute. Suddenly, the tube ended, and he was spat out into a plain metal chair in another spherical, darkened room. He glanced about quickly, and awaited his fate with open blue eyes. He didn't have to wait long.  
>"You are two minutes old, little smeet." Came the same voice. "Prepare to be filled with the whole of Irken Knowledge." His antennae twitched a bit, and he narrowed an eye.<br>"All of it?" He asked no one. Then, with a shriek and whirr of metal and servos, something from the chair connected with the life-sustaining device on his back, and everything went dark.

The Irken child twitched and spasmed, electricity arcing about the chamber as data was activated, drawn and poured into the PAK. History, language, all manner of data; though with countless thousands of terabytes of the stuff to download, the process was fast, and errors were commonly non-existant. With this one, the upload seemed to go cleanly. Then, as suddenly as it began, it ceased; the connections were severed, and the restraints withdrew.

A moment later, his vision began to return as his eyes opened halfway. His mind swam with a shocking plethora of technical knowledge and ancient history; everything new, yet somehow familiar.  
>"Upload complete. You have been given a name." A name, he echoed. He mentally pushed aside what he could, and looked for a name.<br>Name, name, name…  
>"IDENTIFY YOURSELF." The machine ordered. His eyes shot open, and his back became rigid.<br>"I am Averii. Upload complete. Awaiting my duty." Satisfied, the Machine pushed the Irken from the chair, and in dropped the next; a young, red-eyed one.  
>Not long after, Horrible Painful Overload Day ensued, plunging Irk into five years of darkness.<p> 


	2. Chapter One: Academic Battles

The day, for young Averii, started with a scream. A cacophany of them, actually, as Irken burnt Irken with plasma hellfire. His eyes shot open, and he gripped his control sticks tightly as the bay doors creaked open, reverberating throughout the flight deck. Outside lay the hell he was hearing as well as a good amount of stray, silent fire, save for when the ship impacted anything.

_"Flight 059, cleared for launch."_ The control brain droned. _"Flight objective is general defense of battle group. Good-bye."_ He took a breath, then another as he waited for the inevitable as his engines reached full power. Then, with a click, the Mag-Lock disengaged, and he gunned the thrusters, soaring out the bay in his vertical crescent of a ship.

Only when he finally left the confines of the bay did he realize just how much gunfire there was.

The Viral Tank's plasma cannons worked feverishly with the smaller laser turrets as all manner of torpedo fire streaked towards it, and small groups of fighter craft attempted to make a run on the transport. Laser and plasma fire streaked left and right as each attempted to hit the other, with more hostile fighters, painted grey and blue, taking hits as they burst into flame. Unfortunately for him, he noted, the firepower was focused on the 'head' of the Viral Tank, and not the armored shell of the engine, or the two bays that jutted out below it. That said, not ten seconds after they streaked away from the bay did he get tracer warnings.

_"Break!"_ He shouted, his hands yanking hard on the stick as he eyed the torpedoes that followed. A trio of missiles broke from the pack towards the three Spittle Runners. Simple, cylindrical, and fast, it worked to correct it's course as it's siblings went after the other two other in his group, or slammed into the left bay of the Viral Tank. For a moment, he stared in shock as he hurtled away from the burning ship, a chain reaction rippling through it in silence. Each one was massive, and contained massive numbers of Irkens in turn. However, he was jolted into focus when the tracer warning beeped again, increasing in pitch as the cylindrical missile closed.

Eyeing an inbound trio of Shuvvers- Compact, insectoid ships built around the central laser 'eyes' -he threw the stick left and pulled back, pointing himself perpendicular to them as he deactivated his inertial dampeners. This allowed him to 'glide'; In space, this was merely deactivating the systems that adjusted for real physics, allowing said physics to take over.  
>"<em>Lek, Mit!<em>" He barked. "_Point yourselves at the Shuvvers, we can lose the seekers on them!_" Acknowledgement lights beeped, and his sensors displayed them doing so. That said, he also saw his missile gaining, and slammed thrusters to maximum once more. The missile sailed past, it's velocity too great to adjust, and it began to come around once more as his engines propelled him on a collision course with the leading ship of the Shuvver wedge, coming in from their left. Glancing at the missile, he could just attempt to shoot the thing out of the sky with his onboard weapons, though, he noted, he himself would likely be lit up if he tried to light the missile up, as he focused back at the enormous battle around them.

While his ship was only the size of the 'eye' of the Shuvver, it was fast, and soon he streaked towards the lead ship from below- where none of the four main armor plates protected it. He fired his maneuvering thrusters a few times, cutting the main one as he adjusted his trajectory and tried to guide the seeker on an irreversible course. Widening the range of the sensors, he spotted his two partners plus their respective missiles. His mouth ran dry when he realized that Mit- his orange-eyed friend who he knew for his affinity with explosives -had failed to outrun the missile. Things went quiet around him, the increasing pitch of the tracer warning fading.  
><em> "Move! Change course!"<em> He shouted desperately; but it was too little, too late. The missile detonated, and he could only watch and listen as plasma-fire engulfed the protruding engine and detonated the crescent-shaped ship, which vented oxygen and all manner of things explosively. Mit was screaming all the way until the escape pod within the ship's shell was breached. The entire process took just about five seconds, but he stared for a bit longer. "Damn it," He muttered sadly, and went back to the task at hand.

_ "Mit's down, but I'm on course for the left one's fuel pod!"_ Lek's voice crackled, obscured by static. Averii pressed the acknowledgement stud, too focused on tuning his course for the crew section of his target to reply. It would be tricky, but he was itching for that hit.  
>"When you're certain the missile can't pull off in time<em>, reengage your dampeners and get out!"<em> He hissed. "We'll come back around for a second pass if needed!" He fired his main engines and accelerated, waiting until all the possible angles the missile could go to evade the Shuvver were gone, and counted down as he spiraled beneath the leftmost Shuvver.  
><em>"Stay on target!"<em> Lek whispered hoarsely; Ave wasn't sure if it was to him, or himself, but he didn't have time to wonder. He began to mentally count as the Missile and Shuvver closed.

Five.  
>The cockpit's collision alarm went off, joining the tracer alarm's increase in pitch.<br>Four.  
>He aimed himself at an optimum abort angle.<br>Three.  
>He crossed his fingers, hoping for the best.<br>Two.  
>He took a breath.<br>One.  
>He let it out.<br>Zero.  
>He slammed the throttle forward as he reactivated the dampeners, and sailed away as he barely missed the grey-blue plating. Meanwhile, the Missile, lacking sentience or dampeners, continued along it's trajectory, slamming through and detonating inside the Shuvver as it was blown off course to the right- straight into it's rightmost wingman. They both detonated in a firey ball of wreckage, plasma, and whatever else onboard, and carried on towards the burning Viral tank he had launched from.<br>Turning around, he spotted the result of his work, and witnessed the a chain of explosions as Lek completed his own mission.  
>A chain reaction began, as the starboard fuel tank was ruptured and detonated, hurling one of the upper plates away as the explosions continued to the engine, disabling the craft as Lek arced out from behind.<br>_ "Two down, and one for Mit."_ Lek's voice said, somber as the disabled craft tumbled away from the fused, burning hulk of the other two. "A nice few kills." Then, everything went dark.

**/VR-S-019485  
>COMPLETE  
>ONE LOSS**

Ave groaned in annoyance, the virtual starscape and his ship gone, replaced by green text. Two birds with one stone, he mentally noted; the Shuvvers were probably his objective for that scenario after he disposed of the missiles. "Next." He muttered to himself, the machine loading up the next part of the assessment; a combat arena. He sucked in air, preparing for the next challenge; in the military, one had to be ready for almost anything.

**/VR-S-001081  
>LOADED  
>INITIALIZE**

The text faded, and the room went black. Recognizing that the simulation was ready, he shut his eyes, took a breath, then opened them again.

This time he was in a plain, metal colosseum. Before him lay a standard collapsed Shock-Spear, and to his left stood his two shorter companions, already armed.  
>"Took you long enough." Mit grunted. He was the shortest of the three, and the stockiest, being built rather wide compared to most Irkens. He held the spear like a rifle, his size against him in this particular test. Ave smiled a bit, relieved to see his friend again; the simulators were effective at immersion, he'd give them that.<br>"Save it, Mit." Lek muttered, the thin, green-eyed Irken eyeing the metal box that was between them and the other groups. He was a bit shorter than Ave, with about half his height being his rather tall head. His shock-spear was held horizontally against his chest. They had trained in this particular location before. A circular colosseum, two hundred meters wide, with a single barrier- the box -in the center. Combatants emerged from four points, their paths creating an even cross when walking straight at the box.

Ave walked forward, and grasped the spear, activating and extending it, and twirling it once as he felt the weight; just right. Each iteration of the Shock-Spear was similar; a point to conduct an electrical shock at each end, with an ambidextrous handgrip in the center and most of the components towards the top of the spear. Most were collapsible, and most featured the blades on the end. Theirs were no different, and they also happened to be his weapon of choice. He would've liked some armor, though, instead of the cadet uniforms, looking disappointingly at his own clothes; collar, stubby little pauldrons, a black, sleeveless tunic, and the jumpsuit beneath.  
>"I'm ready, how about you?" He slammed the end into the 'soil' at his feet, a small spark going up. At least whoever they fought wouldn't have armor. The two nodded, and tensed up, eyeing the field with anticipation in unison with Averii.<br>About twenty seconds later, a horn sounded and they sprinted out. To the left he saw three figures heading towards the other side, and to his right he saw three sprinting towards his group. With a grin, he leapt forward.

First he feinted a swing towards a short, red-eyed male who was running ahead, and as predicted, they moved to dodge it. With a roar, he brought the blade up into their side and the smaller male screeched as the sharp cutter raked his flesh, discharging electricity that would've plain knock-out a human; however, these were Irkens, and relatively little of his opponent's translucent pink blood spilt as he recoiled from the shock.  
>The short one hissed, and crouched as he clutched at his side. With a growl, a mechanical spike- a PAK's spiderleg -flew towards his face as he pulled away, and he barely moved out of the way as it drove itself into the dirt.<p>

"_Fool_!" He bellowed, surprisingly loud too for such a short being. "You _dare_? You _**DARE**_?!" The smeet-high Irken clutched his hand into a fist, shaking it in rage as he pursued Ave towards the box, climbing up on the stilt-like legs as he tried to impale him.  
>"Yes, I <em>do<em> dare!" He grinned, using his own PAK-legs as he shoved himself beneath the zealous cadet. With a sweep of his spear, he shredded half of his combatant's robotic legs, and they toppled to the side with a yelp.  
>"Eat <em>DOOM<em>!" They shouted back. "_ZIM's_ _doom_!" Dropping down, he collapsed into a roll, and stabbed forth with the spear in his rage, teeth grit. However, Ave was already out of his range, and aimed the dual blades down at the surprised cadet. The blade went deep this time, his opponent screeching for but a second as the spear's circuits, properly cranked up, fried him and boiled his blood; not a moment later, his body dissolved, the zealous cadet eliminated.

Not wasting a moment, Ave glanced towards the grunts and hisses his partners emitted as they battled against the other two from his first kill's group, and spotted the two beset by near-identical Irkens; both tall as he, one red, one purple. Purple, as he designated him, assailing Mit, and Red attacking Lek; no one else had thought to use their PAK yet, apparently.

He hurtled towards Purple first as Mit did what he could to hold him off, and aimed specifically for the PAK-to-Irken connection. With a roar, he shoved the blade deep, and the Irken spasmed wordlessly before dissolving.  
>"Thank you," Mit breathed, his face cut a bit. Ave nodded, then turned to Red, launching again- only to be batted aside by his PAK wordlessly as he disarmed Lek before running him through with his own spear. Ave looked up, and glimpsed Lek's shocked face as he dissolved, before Red turned to him with a smirk on his face.<br>"You jerk." He muttered to himself. Bolting up, Ave grasped his spear tightly, the two making eye contact for a moment.  
>Then, with a growl, Mit, comically short compared to the taller Irken, suddenly leaped at him, and sent the spear through his gut. Red then faded with a swear as Ave burst into a fit of short-lived laughter. A human may have made a comparison of David versus Goliath.<p>

As Ave quieted himself, however, he noticed the arena grow quiet, save for some footsteps behind him. Mit's mouth moved, a sound slowly coming out as Ave turned, and only just as she leaped did Ave spot the blue-eyed female coming at him like a missile. In the instant he had, Ave's mind acted on instinct, and he dove at her, and they sailed past each-other silently. For a second, time froze as he turned, spotting her spear stuck in Mit's face as he dissolved.  
>"NO!" He hissed in rage, the the female frowning in disgust at the remaining gore. They stared for a moment. Then, it all went quickly as something struck his arm, and it suddenly was absent; gone, not there, as pain crackled down his spine, a boot pressed into it as well as he tumbled forward. His face met the dirt rather softly, considering the weight of the foot's owner. He looked to the spear in his left hand, the blade of a shockspear slamming into the dirt beside his head as another feminine voice laughed. Defeated, he tossed the weapon aside.<br>"I'm done." He sighed. Then, things went dark again.

**/VR-S-001081  
>FAILURE  
>COMPLETE LOSS  
>EXIT**

"Dookie." He growled, disconnecting himself from the VR headsets, the space within the pod lightening as panels turned a luminescent white. The simulator retracted connections that snaked into his PAK as he turned to exit the spherical pod, and as he keyed the door open, to his right, Mit and Lek waited.  
>"Didn't see the other girl, did you?" Mit grunted. Ave nodded nonchalantly, striding towards the simulator room's exit as others exited, their sessions over. They walked in step, as they had for years.<br>"Figures you'd be killed by a Girl, Ave," Lek began, checking a dataslate for today's cafeteria menu. "You don't look at them enough." Mit chuckled a bit, and he scoffed at Lek.

In their office, the Training Overseers filed through the videos quickly. It was their jobs to assess, and assess they did, going through the day's highlights as brought up by the control brain. Today, overseer 09205 took a particular interest in the twelfth class. Specifically, a cadet designated A-1-22-16-66.

"Computer, replay performance footage, and relay cadet reactions." He droned, having pulled in one of his fellow overseers for an opinion. "As you likely recognize, this is the standard Missile Evasion scenario." His partner nodded.  
>"Yes, so what?" The shorter overseer adjusted his goggles, moving in closer to the screen as the light reflected off of them. "You didn't bring me over just to go over the simulations again, did you, Vit?" He shook his head.<br>"No, watch. So they launch out of the bay," He traced his finger along the path the particular cadet took, "And immediately the tracers are deployed." On cue, the missiles appeared from the edge of the camera, streaking after their targets.

"Cut to the chase." The younger one grunted.  
>"This Cadet in particular," He pointed at the screen and his respective ship as it banked, an indicator displaying the simulated dampeners shut down, "Instead of trying to shoot down the missiles, he got his group to start gliding the missiles on a path into the Shuvvers." He nodded.<br>"Clever. What about it?" He adjusted his arms, propping himself up with his legs as he eyed the screens.

"There. You see how long he's distracted when shorty bites the dust?" He pointed at the reaction camera.  
>"Ah, he got distracted. What about it?" His partner asked.<br>"This smeet can pull all the tricks he wants, but if he starts getting distracted like that, he'll get people killed. Computer, fast forward a few seconds." The feed cut forward, and things started exploding violently.  
>"His tricks are pretty effective, though." He noted. 09205 nodded in agreement.<br>"Exactly. Computer, Arena Scenario, a few seconds before it ended for the cadet." The screen cut to the cadet in question, caught up in the humor of the shorter one's kill. Behind him, a purple-eyed and blue-eyed pair ran.

"Here, he's distracted again, and loses his buddy because of it. Then, he loses his right arm." He winced a bit as the limb flew off, the purple-eyed female ready to skewer him as she planted him into the dirt.  
>"Did he just give up? Surrendered?" His partner asked incredulously. He nodded.<br>"I think we should have a talk. Get the shock-flail."


	3. Chapter Two: Never tell him to Surrender

**/VR-S-019485-D**

**/INITIALIZING**

His eyes shot open, by now the screams familiar. The same ship, the same sounds, the same reverberations. Each time, however, he still tensed up. He remembered when he first did this with only two others beside him.

Today he had a small _fleet_ of sorts to coordinate, and more to do than dodge missiles.

_"Flight 059, cleared for launch. Flight objective is general defense of battle group. Good-bye."_ The mag-locks disengaged in the exact same way as when he first did it, and everyone's engines flared as their crescent-shaped craft peeled away from the Viral Tank and downward, out of the direct fire. In his group he had more than thirty, and it would be a challenge to coordinate them all.

That is, if they had been _new_ cadets on their first assessment, as he had been.

"I want the best pilots to guide the missiles on a collision course with any hostile ships," He barked, he himself looking for a potential target as the tracer warning began to light up. "The rest of you, attempt to lose the missile with decoys or laser fire!" A plethora of acknowledgement lights pulsed, none dark as he spotted today's target; a Ring-Cutter pair, and the wide viewport was the perfect target.

Much larger than the smaller, blinder Shuvvers he used to chase, they featured multiple guns. The two most obvious were located to the sides of the 'windshield' as it may be called by some, but for him, as he hurtled towards it, the most dangerous were the two 'horns' atop it, which were really laser emitters; not very healthy for his fighter-sized ship, he remembered. He glared intently at the viewport once more, thrusters steering him on a close arc. While not actually made of fragile glass, they were tempting targets nonetheless; at the same time, they were also one of the most dangerous places to strike, with the crew more actively able to track him. That, and the difficulty level had been raised for this test.

_"All available pilots, VT-0741 Downfall requires reinforcement."_ A control brain crackled through the radio, monotone as ever as he was jolted from his focus. He grimaced.

"If you are not currently tracking a target or dodging a missile, _head for the Viral Tank_," He growled, the forces intense as he came in fast on a correction burn; in his peripheral vision, acknowledgements blinked. With Ring Cutters, he had to be fast to dodge the point defenses and the beams of the ship's horns.

_"Collision alert, enemy vessel."_ The nav-computer droned; he ignored it, and began to cycle the lasers as he aimed the ship for a burn past the second Ring-Cutter.

_"Yoke's got one on his tail,"_ Someone hissed; a female, somewhat familiar. _"He's not going to make it!"_ He narrowed his eyes.

"Help him if you can, but if he's gone, _he's gone,"_ He hissed. "We have no time to listen to your weeping." An acknowledgement light blinked_. "Same goes for everyone else!"_ He growled again, firing his engines as he barely missed the first Ring Cutter, it's guns coming alive as he opened fire on the other one. Said guns soon silenced as the missile sailed into the first one's bridge, detonating and spraying the translucent shards throughout space, the ship lobotomized.

_"Attack Squadron requested on enemy contact 29; Viral Tank class!"_ The Control Brain barked, it's usual flat monotone replaced with one of urgency. He blinked his confirmation light, and his group acknowledged; he had to finish this up quickly and get to it. Gunning his thrusters as lasers flashed past him. He growled softly as he noted the insubstantial damage to the ship. He couldn't run without bringing it after him, and he couldn't stand up to it in a fight.

"Come on..." He muttered, his forehead perspiring as his antennae twitched nervously. His eyes were narrowed, focused as he activated his dampeners, soaring past and behind the ship. He arced around it, facing it's starboard.

_"Die already, you stupid machine!"_ He hissed, spinning the Spittle Runner around and letting loose a pulse-laser burst that raked the side guns. The Cutter spun sluggishly, shrugging off the damage and letting loose a plasma blast towards him. "Dammit!" He barked, diving down. He fired at the weapon systems again as the ship attempted to turn and face him, the ball of energy burning overhead. His eyes twitched a bit as he glared.

_"I said, DIE!"_ He gunned the thrusters again, and charged up a plasma disc as he began to roar at the virtual starship. Then, with a heavy thump, his ship shook as a bright pink disc of ionized gas streaked towards the already-superheated casing of the weaponry. He let himself have a grin as the hostile ship began to vent superheated metals, and began to disintegrate as volatile plasma flowed and fused circuits, the charged starboard emitter going critical. A moment later, a small sun appeared, and with a full-on smile he turned towards the triangular marker designating his objective, and fired the thrusters.

_"Situation report!"_ He barked, approaching the swarm of fire and starships from behind.

_"Seven casualties, heavy damage another third of the flight group_!" Crackled the panicked voice of Lek. _"We can't get a clear shot at the bridge, or any other vulnerable systems!"_ Ave narrowed his eyes once more. Viral Tanks were hard to crack.

_"We're taking too many hits, we **need** to fall **back**!"_ Shouted another cadet. He grimaced again, alone in his fighter as he banked around the gunfire.

_"No, you are not!"_ He hissed. _"We stay and complete the objective!"_ He looked around wildly, lasers streaking everywhere and shots going wide. _"Shoot straight, damn you!"_ He swung into a formation of four, and the five ships streaked towards the Viral Tank. They opened up as they began to spin, and he tried to aim for the small gunpods dotting the bow of the Tank, and hissed in frustration as he missed.

_"We **can't**!"_ The same feminine voice from before shouted. _"We need to retreat!"_ He growled, banking off again as gunfire filled the space he had been in before, and stared angrily at the machine, then at the smaller swarm of fighters. It was worthless, he admitted; they were like metal hornets trying to kill a metal elephant; flying uselessly into the thing and stinging for all they were worth, but... His eyes widened.

"Those of you too damaged to realistically survive longer, I want _ramming speed into the Bridge."_ For a moment, a few ships hesitated to respond, and the lights remained dark.

_"But we won't survive the crash!"_ Protested the same female. He frowned; she was getting on his nerves.

_"Just do it, for Irk's sake! _I'd rather this thing die now than waste more time trying to pierce this armor in _these tiny ships!" _He hissed. An acknowledgement light blinked a moment later; he sensed hesitation. _"Now move it!"_ Then, a few more blinked; five in all. "The rest of you, _draw the ship's fire!"_

The flight of five peeled off, and he joined them, heading towards the rear in a wedge formation as the rest of the spittle runners buzzed around the front of the ship, dodging, taking, and returning fire. They arced past the tank's starboard, and they began coming up on the Viral Tank's port at a normally alarming speed.

_"I hate this!"_ Shouted a pilot, the lead ship of the formation making a bead for the bridge.

"I know you do." He muttered, the first ship plowing through a laser beam with a fiery blast. Not a moment after, another was shot down. _"WHERE IS MY COVERING FIRE?!"_ He hissed.

_"Here it is!"_ Yelled Lek, and his eyes widened for a moment as he plowed into the gunports. Half a second passed, and he shook it off; he was gone, no changing that. The laser flak around them dissolved, and two ships remained; the ship hurtled forth, however, and the marker remained.

**_"Finish the Viral Tank."_** Crackled the monotone Control Brain. For a moment, he sat, frozen. **_"Finish the Viral Tank."_** It repeated; the other lights unblinking. Then, he tapped the acknowledgement with a sigh of a mix of relief and disappointment.

_"You heard it; open fire on the vitals!"_ Barked the female. _"Burn it out of the sky!"_ The damaged ship next to him opened up on the bridge, and he was jolted back to reality.

"Let's make some noise." He muttered.

**/VR-S-019485-D**

**/COMPLETE**

**/TEN LOSSES - ONE THIRD CASUALTIES.**

Again, the starscape disappeared, replaced by the letters as the holograms faded out. That could've gone better, he knew, but he sighed in relief.

"Next." He echoed; it had become a ritual to verbally say it, and he waited.

The past few years had been a changing time for him, but it was still something he did. Today, though he was at the top of his class (a position he had worked hard to earn), he still had his own rituals. While he no longer mourned for imaginary crewmen, and did what he could to ignore friends as they fell around him, he did keep that, at least.

There was still much that changed, however. A public shock-flogging can do that. Never again would he allow emotion to compromise him like he once had in battle, lest he be singled out again. It hadn't been long after his first true academy assessment that they had come for him; he'd been studying in the practice arena, and going over some older war history after his loss in the assessment's final arena. Clad in their black goggles and uniforms, and coupled with their height, the overseers were imposing, and had grabbed him without a word. Pain ensued.

He shivered at the memory, pushing it away. Now was not the time, he told himself; now was not the time.

**/VR-S-001081-D**

**/LOADED**

**/INITIALIZE**

He blinked, coming back to reality, and found himself back in an arena. A shock-spear lay at his feet, and his two friends stood beside him, clad in light armor. Wordlessly, they nodded, looking at the opposing force. On the opposite side of the sandy, desert-like arena stood a shorter cadet by the name of Lurch, two somewhat familiar figures to his side. Here, there were a few blocks placed haphazardly for cover, and pillars of reddish stone stood, but unlike the old box arena, they could stare down the other team. Quickly, he grasped his spear, and extended the weapon as he twirled it once, the weight just right again.

He stretched in the lightweight red uniform, taking it in in a glance. For their bodies, it consisted of the common pointed pauldrons, a collar, and a rigid piece of torso plating to protect against weaker projectiles and weapons. Their arms, he noted, were sheathed in a sleek, black gauntlet, ending in a point past the elbow, and with an opening for his gloves on the ends. In contrast, their legs were rather unarmored, save for the belt, which had a fireproof and tear-resistant cloak attached to it. It ran to their ankle or a higher, and though Averii personally loved the cape-like extension, he tensed up, his adrenaline flowing as he had no time to dwell on it.

"I feel like that blue-eyed chick _stabbed_ me in the _face_ once." Mit noted awkwardly; he'd grown a bit, coming up to Lek's neck, with Lek and Ave still relatively tied. They were perhaps a foot taller, but he didn't find it important to check.

"Fancy a bit of _vengeance_, shorty?" Lek chuckled, before an elbow to the gut interrupted him.

"Focus." Ave deadpanned, and they tensed up.

A moment later, a siren screeched, and they leapt into action. To his left was an 'O' made of rectangular sandstone, to his right a single, fallen pillar; a few meters ahead was Lurch, dashing beside the 'blue-eyed chick'. But where was the other one...?

He more heard than saw what happened to Mit, his choked gurgles audible enough as a purple-eyed female with a cranial implant slew him to his left, the unfortunate Irken caught midstride in the gullet.

That's where she had gone, he noted. Fast. As his friend's body dissolved, disconnected from the match, he leaped onto and sprang off of the fallen pillar, holding his spear tight as he flew like an arrow at Lurch. The green-eyed male's antennae stood up in surprise, and he ducked, raising his spear... And yanked the female between him and Ave, who adjusted her spear too slowly to block. His eyes going wide, he reflexively yanked the point away from the new target, and slammed into her headfirst, knocking the air out of them and sending her spear flying.

Recoiling as the unprepared female was sent into a wall, he rolled and recovered quickly, picking up the spear as his chosen opponent rolled and turned.

"You missed, _flog-boy_!" Lurch taunted, his rather rectangular head complimented by a relatively square jaw, and a strange, thick and throaty accent. "Now finish the job and get over here, you weakling!" He grinned sadistically, narrowing his eyes. The girl gasped and coughed behind him, unintelligibly muttering in pain. He glanced over for a moment, then back.

"I'll finish the job alright." He growled, staring down the shorter male as they grit their teeth. He twirled the spear once, and then held it out in front of him. "Let's see those _brains_, then." Lurch frowned, and glowered.

"Can't hit a _girl_, then. Fine." He rose into a wide-legged stance as he held the spear in front of him, and two spiderlegs edged out of his PAK. "Try a **_man_**!" He roared, and he sprung at him like a bullet, the legs shoving him upwards as his eyes widened.

With a bloodcurdling roar, Lurch arced down, but Ave had already dashed out of the way of the enraged trainee. Glancing to his left with a confused expression, he narrowed his eyes once more and growled as the flunk the blunt end towards his face.

"**_Shocking_**, is it not?!" He grunted as Ave leaned back in surprise, kept up only by his spear as he held it out behind him. His own eyes narrowed again, and he squinted at lurch as he brought his spear swinging around and into the back of his legs-but only the shaft, which hit with a meaty _thwack_ as he let out a hiss of pain.

"Indeed!" He shouted, dropping back as his own PAK-legs sprang out and carried him out from under the crackling spear of his opponent, and he was catapulted back onto his booted feet as Lurch kneeled in pain, growling at him.

"I am not done with you yet, _blueboy_!" He roared, more legs emerging from his PAK as he dragged himself at Ave vigorously. Alarmed and somewhat off-guard, he raised his own shock-spear and held it in front of him as lurch sprang forth, and thrust it upward towards his chest, where it met the handgrip - and kept going, sparking and arcing onto his armor as the material melted, caught between the second blade and the end of the spear. His eyes wide, he strained to push back, but it was too little, too late, and the longer of the blades continued into the left armor plate, and beyond.

A spiderweb of fiery pain crackled from the penetrating blade, driven into his flesh as he cried out, gritting his teeth. He shoved hard, and the blade slid out slowly but painfully as he roared at his grinning assailant, before he shoved and slid his own spear towards his head, rewarding him with another hiss of pain as a not-too-small chunk of skin came off. His strength was fading, however, and he could barely hold the blade out as their PAK legs retracted. They stumbled to the side, roaring at each-other, before a sickening yelp of pain resounded from across the arena; a masculine death cry, sounding all-too-much like Lek's. Lurch grinned, and let the blade slide towards him a bit more; their spears wobbled a bit, both weakened by the blood 'loss as translucent pink leaked from both of them.

"Your friend has _fallen_, Averii; **_give_** **_up_**!" Ave froze up for a moment, the words connecting. Then, he roared again, kicking him away as they stumbled apart.

"I don't give up! I **_REFUSE_**!" He hissed, tackling the disoriented male into the dirt as he discarded his spear. His hands wrapped around Lurch's neck as he glared imaginary holes into his skull. "I **_REFUSE_**, YOU **_DEFECTIVE_** PIECE OF **_GARBAGE_**!" _Never_ _again_!

"_Get off of him_!" Yelled a feminine voice, rapid footsteps approaching to his side; he ignored them.

"**I**! **REFUSE**!" He repeated, the male's eyes bulging as his tongue fought for oxygen, both fists wrapped around the neck as he squeezed. The steps grew louder, and his skin began to turn slightly purple as the tongue danced desperately, his arms pinned to his sides, useless. His stupid, wormy tongue...

"_I SAID, GET_-" He yanked at the tongue, ripping it from the oxygen-starved body and sent his fist flying into the approaching purple-eyed female, and floored her.

"-_And I said_, **_I refuse_**!" He hissed softly, yanking the spear from her weakened hands and slamming it into their face. Averii savored it for a moment as the simulated spear bent and broke the skull of the female, crushing the strange implant that ran on the left side of her skull. He discarded the body with a shove, suddenly drained. "..._Never again_." He echoed, turning to the choking and gurgling puddle that Lurch had become; his own mouth bled, translucent pink leaking from the corners of his mouth as he clutched his side. His mouth tasted of the sickeningly sweet blood, strange for a simulator, but he didn't care as he eyed the body.

"I'm finishing the job." He muttered, and brought his heel down on his skull, which disintegrated as his foot met flesh.

She regarded him with evident fear as she stayed in the corner, and let out a small noise as he glanced to her, then to the laying shock-spears.

"Finishing the job?" She repeated as he picked two up; his own, and Lurch's. He glanced to her tiredly for a moment; her voice matched that of the one who had protested his orders, he noted.

"In a moment. I'm Averii, as you may have gathered." He shook the fluids off of the simulated weapons.

"E-Entra." She stammered. "Cadet Entra." Entra. So that was her name. He leaned against one of the randomly strewn rock walls for a moment, breathing heavily.

"Good to meet you." He nodded, and raised Lurch's former weapon. "Take the spear; I'll give you a fair fight." He sighed.

**/VR-S-001087-C**

**/VICTORY**

**/TWO CASUALTIES OUT OF THREE.**

With a frown, he strode out of the machine, stretching and flexing a bit in his Cadet jumpsuit that he had worn for years; it didn't feel right now. Mit and Lek waited for him by the exit, with sodas in hand.

"So, how'd it go?" He glared for a moment, then softened.

"How's cadet A-1-22-16-66 this assessment?" His partner asked.

"He's gotten quite brutal since we last checked him." He answered. "I mean, Tallest, Nard, he's having his most damaged ships smash into enemy vessels just to stop them!"

"So he's gotten better or worse?"

"Scary, but better, Nard. Most recent assessment was interesting, though. The two team desert arena was his last battlefield." He continued. "Cadet Lurch ticked him off by telling him to give up." His partner's eyes widened under the goggles.

"...Tallest. That can't be good." He nodded.

"With a hole in his chest, he starts to choke him out, and then he rips out his tongue to punch the other cadet that's coming at him; they both died in the same five seconds." They shuddered.

"Ripping out their tongue? Was he still alive?" His partner asked; he nodded simply.

"Medical Techs are going over him now; his body thought he was drowning in his own blood, so his PAK had to restart his heart a few times. Averii, though. He's brutal, but that's what we train them all for. Not quite brutal as that Zim, kid, though." He shivered, his partner nodding in agreement.

"Anything else?" His partner asked after a moment.

"Cadet Lurch tried to use that blue-eyed female, Entra, as a shield to take the hit. Guess who Ave ends up fighting last, and on fair terms?" His partner's eyes widened a bit.

"Interesting."


End file.
